


A Discovery of Bees

by SecretlyFamous



Series: The Discovery Series [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Bees, Domestic Sherlock, English Countryside, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Flowers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Happy John, Happy Sherlock, Honey, John Master of Deduction Watson, Kisses, M/M, Pining, Ridiculous Sherlock, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock calls him Doctor Watson, Trees, Worried John, pining for nature, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyFamous/pseuds/SecretlyFamous
Summary: Sherlock is wondering about honey and thinking about bees. John is worried about him and can't figure out what's wrong. He hopes it's not what Mrs. Hudson thinks. John Watson has discovered things about Sherlock in their relationship before but this time Sherlock is going to have to reveal the answer himself.





	

**A Discovery of Bees**

 

Sherlock was sitting at the table when John came down that morning. He had made tea which he rarely did before John was up but today he was also staring at a jar of honey. John stared at him for a few seconds from one end of the table before turning to the kettle that was still sitting on the stove.

“Morning, love,” John said pouring water into a mug of his own with one of the teabags Sherlock hated but bought for him.

“Morning,” Sherlock didn’t take his eyes off the jar. In fact, he took the lid off and stuck a spoon in it with the same level of intense concentration. John sat at the table beside him.

“Problem?” John couldn’t help himself.

“I wonder how they make honey,” Sherlock lifted the spoon out and watched it drip back into the jar in slow streams.

“Well, bees make it,” John spoke deliberately trying not to insult him but considering this might be like the moon thing.

This time Sherlock looked at him. “Don’t be an idiot I know how bees make honey. It’s a series of chemical processes inside the bee’s digestive system when they have ingested a certain amount of nectar. I know all that,” Sherlock turned his attention back to the honey itself. “No, I mean a bee only produces one twelfth of a teaspoon a day, John. There’s a lot more honey than that in the jar.”

“There’s a lot more bees than that in the hive,” John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and got up from the table. “Forget it.” John looked at the jar he had left open with the spoon still sinking into it. 

The next time that day John noticed Sherlock acting stranger than usual involving bees was when he was sitting on the couch with his laptop open and a drawing pad in his lap. Sherlock hardly ever sketched anything without being seated at his microscope so John was immediately interested. He didn’t want to frighten him off so he walked in and pretended to be interested in the morning paper that he had already read. He managed to get close enough to peak over at the paper and saw that he was sketching bees. Over the coming days John noticed more like the way Sherlock sighed as he looked out the window and stared at trees whenever one was near even once at a crime scene. It was on one of these occasions when John decided to question him further. They were walking by a florist on their way home from shopping which John had insisted Sherlock accompany him on because he really felt as if he should be keeping an eye on him. John convinced him that he needed help carrying the bags but he was carrying both as they walked and Sherlock paused in front of the window of the florist to stare longingly at a bouquet of daisies with a yellow bow around the vase they were in.

“Alright, Sherlock, what is going on?” John hoped he didn’t sound too harsh.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock stared at the flowers.

“What is this new obsession? The flowers, the honey, I saw you sketching bees the other day,” John leaned over to try and catch his eye. 

Sherlock looked at him. “Hmm, maybe you are more observant than I thought,” was the phrase he expected to get away with but John Watson literally put his foot down when he tried to continue down the street.

“No, not this time, we’re not going home until you tell me what’s going on,” John said.

“We’re going to stand out here until I tell you?” Sherlock said.

“Yes,” John said.

“You do remember how long it took me to tell you I loved you?” Sherlock tried to suppress a smile.

“Yes I do,” John wasn’t moving from that spot.

“You really think you can hold the shopping that long?” Sherlock was in full annoying-know-it-all smile mode as he said it.

John rolled his eyes as Sherlock bent forward to take one of the bags from John and continue down the street. He knew he would have to figure it out on his own. Time to use his own deductive skills.

***

“What do you think it could be?” John Master-of-Deduction Watson was sitting downstairs in Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen while she poured him a cup of tea. Their usual afternoon television date they kept whenever John had days off from the clinic had turned into a game of “Deduce Sherlock” while he was out that day. John didn’t know what he was out doing he just hoped it wasn’t gazing longingly into the window of the little antiques store that John noticed the bee teapot in the window of the day before.

“Bees, huh? That is curious,” Mrs. Hudson mused as she sipped her tea.

“It started out with honey. I thought maybe he was just curious or it was something to do with his blog but now he’s just moping about flowers and trees all the time,” John was getting desperate to find the answer. He tapped his fingers on the handle of his teacup as he took a thoughtful bite of a chocolate biscuit.

“Could he have some kind of fetish?” she suggested sweetly.

John nearly choked. “What? No! Oh, god, what would that even be?”

Mrs. Hudson shrugged. “I saw all kinds of things before my late husband passed.”

John was relieved to hear the front door close and he left her flat to see Sherlock running up the stairs. “John!” he called as John ran up the stairs after him. “John?” he was asking the empty room as John emerged behind.

“Sherlock, what is it?” John was relieved to see his eyes bright with excitement as he turned to face him and put both hands on John’s shoulders.

“I’ve found it! You must come with me at once,” he was bursting with light as he met John’s gaze.

“Yes, definitely,” John was happier than he had ever been to see Sherlock doing something besides pining in the opposite direction. Sherlock led John down the stairs by the hand and into a hired car waiting for them outside.

“Where are we going?” John was smiling because Sherlock was smiling.

“To our future,” was all he would say about it.

It didn’t take much more than an hour of driving outside of London before they stopped at what looked like empty farmland. Sherlock stopped the car at the edge of the field and they walked over a crest that overlooked a house surrounded by a pond, flowers and a few trees at the edge of the farm that obviously hadn’t grown a crop in years.

“What are we doing here?” John was more hopeful than he had been but still confused.

“I bought it,” Sherlock announced.

“You bought it? You bought a farm?” John asked then added: “That’s ridiculous.”

“Are you honestly surprised at that?” Sherlock looked at him.

John had a thought. “You’re not going to start your own morgue or something, are you?”

“John, don’t be morbid. Come,” he grabbed his hand again. “I haven’t shown you the best part,” his smile returned and so did John’s as they walked down the hill toward the house. They followed a well-worn path around the back of the house where Sherlock indicated the scene with a sweep of his hand: “Bees!”

John laughed as he saw the beehives lined up along the edge of the trees buzzing with life even though the grass had grown up around them.

“Why are you laughing?” Sherlock almost seemed hurt but was still smiling.

“Nothing...it’s just such a relief...I think it’s wonderful,” he gasped as his laughter died down and he met Sherlock’s eye. “I think it’s wonderful. Truly,” he reached up with his free hand and touched Sherlock’s face rubbing his cheek with his thumb. Sherlock bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John. John returned the caress and leaned against him as they looked at the bees together. “You’re not going to try and name all of them, are you?”

“Doctor Watson, don’t be ridiculous.”

  
  



End file.
